


Writing Challange: Daryl Dixon

by PushingBackTheNight



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl gets injured most of the time, For all who are sluts for feeling the pain of their loved ones, Hurt/Comfort, I mean really a lot of comforting, Injury, Just want to practices writing, M/M, Pain, a lot of comforting after injuries, maybe some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22958113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PushingBackTheNight/pseuds/PushingBackTheNight
Summary: I got 31 hurt/comfort/injury prompts and decided to write them with our beloved hunter.I'm bad at writing summaries...Just have a look at the One Shots.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Jesus, Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 21
Kudos: 44





	1. First meeting

**Author's Note:**

> [English isn't my mother tongue so I apologize in advance for grammatical mistakes, feel free to correct me :)]
> 
> The first meeting between Daryl and Rick - just a bit different.

Rick stared at the beheaded biter at their feet. Did that really happen? He still couldn't believe it. He only heard the conversation between the others with one ear.  
"They don't usually get that high up the hill."  
"They are running out of food in the city."  
A sudden crack in the forest made them all look up. Was that another biter? Rick would instantly cut his head off this time! He raised the iron bar and was about to strike when a young man stepped out of the forest. The man took a startled step backwards, after noticing the armored group.  
"Shit, Daryl...We thought you were a biter", growled Shane, lowering his gun.  
Daryl looked at him bored, then his gaze shifted over to the deer that had been torn apart by the biter. As calmly as he had just reacted to Shane, he kicked the biter's head angrily.  
"Asshole! That was my deer!“, he growled and started to litter the body of the biter with kicks. "Gnawed everywhere by this dirty, disease-infested fucking shit!"  
"Calm down, pal. It doesn't help anyone”, said Dale.  
"It helps me."  
The little discussion was interrupted by a faint outcry. The biter's head had moved and that was probably too much for Amy. Everyone stared horrified at the head, except Daryl. He raised his crossbow and shot an arrow right in its eye.  
"You have to hit the brain", he growled, tearing the arrow out of the now really dead head. "Don't you know anything?"  
Daryl pushed between them and went to the little camp. Rick watched him go, then his eyes went to Shane. He also watched Daryl, but there was a deep aversion in his eyes. What had the younger one done to him? Sure, he was a redneck, you could see that at a hundred feet away, but that fact alone doesn't justify this aversion…especially not at times like this.  
"The jerk and his brother are just making trouble", Shane whispered to Rick when he felt his questioning look. "And now that Merle is no longer here, our good Daryl will try to kill the person who is responsible."  
Rick nodded briefly and together they rushed to the camp.  
Daryl had already called for his brother and looked around in confusion when he didn't get an answer. Shane kept one hand on his pistol all the time, even when he told Daryl he needed to talk to him. Rick, on the other hand, saw this as his job and took the hunter aside.  
"And who are you?", Daryl demanded to know before the other could even open his mouth.  
"Rick Grimes. I was saved by Glenn and the others and... "  
Daryl waved it off. He didn't seem to care. He didn't have to say out loud what information he wanted. Rick knew right away that he shouldn't talk around about the younger boy. He lacked patience and his obvious temperament made it impossible for Rick to keep the fact secret for a long time.  
"We had problems in Atlanta...Merle..."  
"Is he dead?"  
Rick couldn't help but notice the lack of emotion in Daryl's voice. Did this probability really not concern him or did he just overplay his true state of mind very well?  
"We don't know…"  
"What does this mean? Either he's dead or he's alive!”, Daryl hissed.  
"He was a danger to us. We...I chained him to a high-rise roof."  
Daryl looked at him incredulously. The next moment he seemed to explode. He couldn't think straight. Who gave that ass the right to determine over his brother's life? Merle wasn't an angel, neither was he, but the fact was: they both had survived till now. They had always saved the small group's asses, if only because they could hunt for food!  
Anger boiled in Daryl. This newcomer, who didn't even know Merle, had just left him in a biter-infested city! Rick would pay for that. Daryl threw his backpack in its direction and, as hoped, Rick ducked so as not to be hit. Daryl pulled his knife almost at light speed and launched it at him. But before he could reach his object of rage, a shot was fired and the hunter was torn off his feet. The whole group stood in shock and stared at Shane. He was still aiming at Daryl with his pistol. He was lying on the ground, blood oozing from the shot wound on his shoulder.  
Rick was the first to get himself out of his rigidity and crouched next to Daryl. But the hunter wasn't going to let him help. He stumbled to his feet and took a few steps away from the group. But he didn't get very far. His legs gave way and he fell again.  
"Stop with that nonsense", Rick said and ran to him.  
Daryl growled and raised the knife as if to attack him. But Rick shook his head and pressed his hand down. Rick was amazed at how easy it was to do this. The blood loss must have weakened Daryl...or the shock. Either way, Rick firmly believed that the hunter would attack him, if only because he couldn't think clearly 'cause of the pain.  
"Let go of the knife, Daryl. You have to let go."  
Daryl slurred an unclear answer, but his grip on the knife didn't loosen. "Don't trust you…"  
Rick let out a snort. "I know. Nevertheless, we have to take care of the wound. But that's only possible if you let go of the knife."  
A low growl came from Daryl's throat again. "Don't wanna…"  
"I don't care!" Rick tightened his grip on Daryl's hand. "You have to, otherwise you will bleed to death here. So finally let go of that freaking knife! "  
For a moment it looked as if Daryl would keep fighting. But then he opened his hand and Rick took his knife. Their eyes met and at that moment Rick knew that Daryl had a disagreement with him, but he would accept his help. Rick signaled to the others and Carol was at his side after a second, pressing a piece of cloth to the wound.  
"We'll get it, Daryl. All is good."  
She gave Rick a reassuring look. He nodded, got up and made room for Andrea, who went to lent Carol a hand. Daryl's eyes flicked to the new guy, who was mounting up in front of Shane and snatching the pistol out of his hand. The two seemed to scream at each other, but Daryl couldn't hear a word. The rushing of his own blood in his ears drowned out all other noises and even if he would never admit it, he panicked slightly. But the new guy, Rick, successfully distracted him from it, because just as the panic grew, he punched Shane in his face. Why did he do that? Why did he defend him? Daryl had threatened him...he had really tried to kill him.  
But before he could even think about it, his senses faded. The last thing he saw was Rick's worried look, as he came back to him.


	2. The road to Hilltop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is on the way from the Kingdom to Hilltop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Prompt was: "That was a pretty bad fall, are you sure you’re okay?"

After leaving the kingdom, Daryl strolled through the forest for two days and enjoyed not being enclosed by walls or metal fences. He missed the time outside of these communities. He missed running every day and, strangely enough, fighting the biters. Bringing them down was a routine that made him feel free and in control of his life. No wonder, the fight for survival had always been part of him. Daryl took a deep breath and stretched. He was free out here. Here he could just be what he was. Alone, but satisfied with himself and the world. It could have been like this forever and yet something was pulling him back.   
As much as he enjoyed being alone, he loved his family much more. He couldn't just let them down. They needed him, he had to fight Negan with them and he would kill him. Negan would suffer, for Glenn, Abraham and for everyone he'd hurt. But before they could attack the Saviors, people had to be trained in Hilltop and that's why he had to go back there. Their idiotic leader wanted nothing to do with this fight, but his people did - unlike the kingdom. Ezekiel couldn't be persuaded and Daryl didn't want to waste time trying to convince this strange guy.  
After two days outside the secure fences, he finally decided to go to Hilltop. He quickly found a motorcycle that even started without any trouble. Someone had hidden it on the side of the road. With a grim grin, he hoped it was one of Negan's people who had hidden it and the one was going to get in big trouble because he had lost it. On the other hand, he also hoped that the Saviors weren't around, because then he would have a problem. He would rather take on a fight with fifty biters than ten of those asses. Daryl was already looking forward to punching their faces and somehow he hoped that they wouldn't let even one of them get away alife. He was startled by the thought. Since he had been part of Rick's family, his worldview had changed by almost 360°. He no longer wanted to kill unnecessarily, believed that you could help people - and sometimes it was enough just to show them a new perspective. But the Saviors have been under Negan's control for too long. Very few would come to terms with another leader - least of all if the latter killed the previous one. They were not much different from Daryl's family. He would never accept another leader than Rick. That was one of the reasons why he wanted to hunt Negan down from the start. Rick hadn't been himself since the asshole showed up. His example in the forest had turned Rick into a behaving lap dog. But Daryl couldn't blame him. After all, he had been shocked too, so much that Negan had the chance to kidnap him. But that was his biggest mistake. By wanting to break him, Negan had only made him stronger, creating his worst enemy.  
The more he thought about this asshole, the angrier Daryl got. He drove faster, moving around standing cars and debris. He didn't pay attention to his surroundings, there were no biters to be seen for two days and no living ones too. The only thing he actually had to watch out for, was the hidden way he had to take to reach Hilltop. He would have to leave the motorcycle at the mouth of the path 'cause from there he had to go through the forest. Jesus had shown him the trail when they were out together. Daryl smiled at the thought of him. Jesus had something special about him. Everyone seemed to trust him and he was good at negotiating. He had friends everywhere and if not, he made some in no time. Daryl liked him and was looking forward to seeing him again. Suddenly there was a bang and Daryl flew over the handlebars of the motorcycle. He felt the pain, as he hit the asphalt of the street, then his senses faded.

When Daryl awoke, he thought his head was going to explode and his left arm felt like someone had torn it to pieces. That feeling made him open his eyes and sit up as quickly as possible. However, this turned his surroundings into a carousel and he had to close his eyes to avoid vomiting. After a few moments, Daryl opened his eyes again and looked at his shoulder. Panic crept over him when he saw all the blood on his jacket. He wanted to take it off quickly, but that didn't work. Pain shot up his arm, into his shoulder, and joined the one in his head. What happened? He had just been sitting on his motorcycle and now he was lying on the floor and didn't know if his arm was injured from the fall or whether one of these biters had munched on him. How much time had passed?  
"Daryl!"  
Startled, Daryl turned his head. Was that one of Negan's troops? If so, he was dead...or worse. But when his eyes fell on the man who had called his name, he let out his breath, relieved. Jesus came running towards him.  
"Everything okay, no need to rush, pretty face!", he called to him, even if he didn't feel okay at all - the nickname for Jesus was only to distract him from his condition.  
"Shit! That was a pretty bad fall! Are you sure you're okay?", said Jesus, kneeling next to him.  
"Oh come on. I did it on purpose", quipped Daryl.  
"You know you can get my attention even with less dangerous stunts?"  
They both grinned and giggled, but then Jesus became serious again. He looked at Daryl's shoulder and shook his head.  
"These idiots really did a great job," he muttered.  
Daryl looked at him questioningly. What did he mean?  
"Come on, I'll take you to me first, then I'll explain everything to you and clean your wound...Looks like there are still pieces in it."  
Daryl nodded and let Jesus help him to his feet. He wanted to walk alone at first, but they both quickly realized that it would take too long because he could only hobble. So Jesus wrapped Daryl's uninjured arm around his shoulders and they set off together.  
"It's a stupid idea, you know?", Daryl growled as they entered the forest. He only got a confused look from Jesus. "I bleed as if I had a shot wound. That gives a great track for everyone who comes by. No matter if Savior or biter..."  
"I won't leave you here. Besides: the Saviors know the uncomplicated way and the biters come either way. Now keep your ass moving."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


	3. At Hilltop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus got Daryl to his barrack and took care of him :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: It'll hurt, but we need to clean the wounds. You can hold my hand if you want and I'll hurry up.

Daryl barely made it past Hilltop's gates. When it closed behind them and he knew they were safe and he wouldn't get Jesus in danger, his legs gave way under him. He would have fallen to the ground if Jesus hadn't caught him. The pain in his head got worse and judging by his dizziness he had lost a lot of blood. Red spots appeared in front of his eyes and he started to perceive everything blurry. He wanted to tell Jesus that he was about to pass out, but he knew that only blurred mumbling would come out of his mouth. The next moment everything went black around him again.  
"Careful, old man", said Jesus jokingly, as he pulled Daryl back on his feet until he realized in which condition he was. "Get up."  
But the hunter didn't respond to him. Jesus continued to pull Daryl on his shoulder to carry him. If Daryl was awake later, he would rub under his nose how damn heavy he was. But now he had to take him to his barrack, which was not that easy since he not only had to carry him but also his crossbow. Once there, Jesus laid Daryl on his bed and weighed the chances of how hard he would hit him if he now took off his jacket and shirt. He decided against his original plan and gave him something to drink first. Even unconscious, he swallowed all of the water. Then he waited for Daryl to wake up.   
He liked the hunter...more than he would admit. Ever since their first meeting, Jesus has wanted to be able to confess his feelings to Daryl. But there had never been an opportunity for it, and if there was one, he didn't have the balls to say something. Daryl wasn't exactly the most emotional person either...No, no that wasn't true. He was emotional, he was just very good at suppressing his feelings. Jesus had long wondered what had happened to him that he hid his feelings all of the time. He would have got lost in his thoughts again, but it wasn't long before Daryl opened his eyes slowly and then straightened up fast.  
"Slowly, big one", said Jesus, sitting down next to Daryl.  
"Everything's okay…"  
But Jesus could see Daryl closing his eyes and clenching his left hand into a fist. Would he accept help? But more important was the question of whether he would pass out again. Maybe he had gotten a worse head injury. He should definitely get a check-up by their medic.  
"We should take care of your wounds."  
Daryl only gave a hum and began to take off his leather jacket. Jesus immediately recognized that he had problems with it. But he also knew that Daryl didn't like to be helped. So he just sat next to him and stared at his hands, because if he had continued to watch him, he certainly couldn't hold back. But then something happened that he hadn't thought possible.  
"Would you help me?"  
Jesus looked at him in surprise and got a slightly annoyed look. He nodded and stood behind Daryl so that he could pull the jacket off his shoulders when he noticed something.  
"Damn, I was right," he swore.  
"What?"  
"Gregory ordered nail boards to be laid out on the street to slow down or even stop everything getting through from the kingdom...That idiot. Unfortunately, there are still people here who listen to him. However, they couldn't get the nails, so they put pieces of broken glass on the boards. You went all the way in and, as it looks, fell on them too. But the boards don't explain why you overturned."  
"Braked, the front wheel locked and I flew over the handlebars."  
Okay, that explained everything. But it didn't make one thing better. Gregory was subordinate to Negan, even if very few wanted to admit it. That was a problem that they had to deal with at another time. Now Daryl had priority.  
"You still have broken glass in your shoulder and your jacket got caught on it. This may…"  
"Nonsense, just take this thing off me", Daryl growled.  
He gritted his teeth when Jesus took off his jacket and then immediately freed him from his shirt too. Daryl assumed that he would immediately start removing the broken glass, but that didn't happen. A few moments passed in which Daryl felt more and more uncomfortable. He hated it when others saw him naked or even half-naked and that he conceded it to Jesus was a really big sign of trust. However, Jesus put said trust more than just to the test. The next moment Daryl winced and moved away from Jesus. He had touched his back - not where it was injured, but further down, in the middle of his back. Daryl knew what Jesus had seen there, a long scar...a gift from his old man.  
"Sorry...", Jesus murmured, looking at him apologetically. "I didn't want to…"  
"It's fine", Daryl replied, to his own surprise. "I'm just not proud of it..."  
Jesus nodded and chewed on his lip. His eyes went to Daryl's chest and got stuck there, even if he didn't want to. He knew how uncomfortable the hunter was to be seen like this, but he couldn't help it. How could you look away from this broad chest? Damn how he'd like to touch him...  
"Finished?"  
"What?" Jesus looked at him confused.  
"Have you seen enough? Can you finally remove the shards? It hurt like fucking hell. "  
Jesus nodded and felt the blood rise in his cheeks. Until now, he had always successfully stared at Daryl without him noticing it...or at least he hoped so. Now he was caught red-handed and it made him blush as red as a tomato. Daryl had turned his back to him again. His whole body was tense. Jesus put a hand on his uninjured shoulder and felt Daryl flinch again. He stayed seated, but he tensed even more. Jesus took a tweezer from the small table next to his bed and wanted to remove the first splinter, but when he touched it Daryl inhaled sharply and moved away again.  
"I'm sorry...It's probably deeper than I thought", Jesus apologized.  
"God damn it, just pull it out", Daryl growled and sat back down properly.  
Jesus put a hand on his shoulder again, to calm him down rather than to hold him still.  
"It'll hurt, but we need to clean the wounds", he said, adding, with a shake of the head to himself. "You can hold my hand if you want...I'll hurry up."  
He didn't think Daryl would accept the offer, which wasn't really serious either. All the more astonished, he looked up at his hand, when he felt Daryl's, which closed around his fingers. That threw Jesus off the track for a moment and he slipped off with the tweezer. A sound of pain came over Daryl's lips and he squeezed Jesus' hand, just for a second until he had himself under control again.  
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I…"  
"It's okay."  
Jesus spent the next fifteen minutes pulling the many pieces of glass out of Daryl's shoulder. On the one hand, he knew that he was helping him with it. On the other hand, he would have liked to save him the pain. Some of the shards were as long as a finger and deep in his flesh. His shoulder was bleeding so badly that Jesus immediately pressed his blanket on the wounds to stop the bleeding. By the time the sun was setting he was finished, all the shards were removed and the wounds didn't bleed as much. Daryl could have let go of his hand, but he didn't. On the contrary, he held it tighter - as if he didn't want Jesus to take it from his shoulder.  
"Are you all right?", He asked and allowed himself to stroke Daryl's shoulder with his thumb.  
"Just...remembered something." The moment Jesus had persuaded himself to ask what he remembered, Daryl continued to speak."The last time I had broken glass in my back, I had to pull it out by myself...My old man threw a bottle of beer that broke on the wall. Since he hadn't hit me, he pushed me towards the wall. I stumbled and fell into the shards with my back. The...the big scar, I got it that day...almost bled out at our kitchen floor. I…"  
Daryl paused and Jesus could hear him swallow. Was he crying? Jesus had never seen the hunter so emotionally. Maybe it was the loss of blood or the injury of his head.  
"I wish I had someone back then, who would have helped me...who would have taken care of me", he whispered, and now Jesus was sure that he was fighting the tears. "Thank you…"  
Jesus lowered his eyes to the scar again. Following a sudden impulse, he leaned forward so that he could touch it with his lips. Daryl shivered at the touch. Jesus was sure that he would give him a black eye and broken nose for this, so he quickly straightened up and wanted to take his hand off his shoulder. But the hunter continued to hold it. Jesus' heart was beating wildly against his chest.  
"I ... I ...", stammered Daryl and the tough guy suddenly became a man with emotions.  
He didn't seem to know what to say, so he pulled Jesus' hand from his shoulder and intertwined their fingers. After this gesture, Jesus dared to hug Daryl from behind and when he put his forehead between Daryl's shoulders and felt another shiver run through his body, he knew that his intuition had been correct.  
"I'm here for you. You don't have to go through anything alone again”, Jesus said.  
Daryl felt goosebumps spread across his body as the younger man's breath grazed his neck. Exhausted, he leaned back and allowed Jesus to hug him a little more tightly. He blamed his behavior to the fall, he must have seriously injured his head. Still, it was a pleasant feeling to lie in Jesus' arms and to know that he would take care of him. He also knew exactly that the younger man would never accuse him of such behavior or make fun of him. His eyes closed slowly, but for the first time in a long time, he wasn't afraid to fall asleep. He knew that nothing would happen to him here.  
Jesus slid back to the wall so that they could both sit as comfortably as possible, and he never let go of Daryl. He smiled when he saw and felt him slowly relax. After the hunter finally closed his eyes, Jesus breathed a light kiss on his temple. He enjoyed this closeness to Daryl even more, knowing that it would be short-lived. Daryl would surely run away as soon as he woke up. What was even more certain was that he would not talk to him for days because he had shown his weakness to him. But Jesus would worry about that when the time was coming. At the moment he also closed his eyes and absorbed every moment that Daryl lay in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments on the chapter? No? But I would love some /.\ Pretty please?


	4. Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was: "How did you manage to get yourself a black eye?" 
> 
> Not really much of injuries in here and a special way to comfort each other. I got the prompt and instantly knew that I have to make it funny 😂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments 😊😚

They were on patrol when the walkers surprised them. Paul was the first to see them approaching between the trees. He cursed loudly and pulled Daryl to his feet...Well, they weren't exactly on a patrol. Actually, they were just looking for a nice place so that they didn't have to be quiet again when they slept with each other. The two of them had cleared the area, then Daryl was on his knees in no time and had fumbled with Paul's pants. Paul had laughed when the hunter lost his patience in seconds and simply tore off his pants.  
"Now I have to sew a new button on - again", he had playfully grumbled and only got a cranky look from Daryl.  
His underpants suddenly shoved to his knees and a moment later he moaned loud. He automatically put a hand over his mouth so he wouldn't be too loud.  
"No", Daryl growled low, pulling his hand from his mouth. "Wanna hear you."  
Paul had never really been the type who was quiet during sex. But since he found out that Daryl got turned on when he was loud, it was so much harder for him to hold back. However, he had to anyway, because in Hilltop the walls had ears and not everyone agreed that the two were a couple. Even in the Apocalypse, asses were screaming homophobic phrases. Paul coped well with it - he knew nothing else since his school days and it never bothered him. Daryl, on the other hand, got angry and was ever so often not able to control himself. So Paul had to step in, to stop him before he would beat up these idiots. He often collapsed in their barrack and even cried. Throughout his life, he had heard from his father and brother that gays were disgusting and best be shot in the head. In order to not provoke such sayings, Paul and Daryl kept as far away from each other as possible and were as quiet as possible when they slept with each other.   
It was different out there, they didn't have to be quite and Paul was sure that everyone could still hear them in Hilltop. The thrill of being seen also had something breathtaking. But there was another huge problem - the walkers. Just like at this moment.  
Daryl hadn't yet realized that they were in danger and simply believed that Paul pulled him up to kiss him and finally free him from his pants too. The hunter pressed him against the tree and kissed him fiery. Paul allowed it a moment longer because the walkers were still far enough away to be a danger for them. But he had to push the hunter back at some point. Otherwise, they would be caught off guard.  
"Everything okay?", Daryl asked and Paul could hear the slight anxiety in his voice.  
It hurt that Daryl still thought he was doing something wrong or that he wasn't good enough for him. He was like this from the first moment and Paul could do nothing to prove him, that he was perfect and he loved him regardless of what people were saying.  
"Just walkers", he replied, quickly pulling up his pants.  
"Hoped we had more time."  
"We'll have more after we are done with them."  
Daryl nodded and grabbed his crossbow. Before Paul had pulled up his zipper, two walkers were dead on the ground. He snorted in amusement and pulled out his knife. The gun was too loud, they didn't want to attract more of them. Knowing that Daryl was backing him up, Paul ran towards the walkers and rammed the knife into the head of the first one. He pulled the knife out, with a disgusting sound and turned to the next. But it was already dangerously close to him. He could smell it's rotten breath and held his own. The next moment the walker fell over, an arrow stuck in his forehead. Jesus turned to Daryl, somewhat startled. It was always amazing how well the hunter could aim and scary how risky some of his shots were. Daryl made his typically grim face and just nodded. But Paul could see the concerned expression in his eyes.  
"Duck!", Daryl called a second later and shot another arrow at the same moment.  
Paul instantly dropped to the ground and made a disgusted sound when a walker landed on him. Great, his shirt would smell like this for the next two weeks. He was about to push the walker off when it turned its head and tried to bite his face. At the last second, he could thrust his knife into the walker's skull. Why had Daryl missed it? That had never happened in all the time Paul knew him.   
He quickly looked at Daryl and could barely see how the hunter smashed the head of a walker exactly on the tree that Paul had leaned against, just moments before. So he got attacked from behind and couldn't aim right.   
It was then that Paul was grabbed by the leg and he felt hands on his arm. The fingers trying to tear his pants and shirt open, brushing over him, as the walkers crawled up to his face. He let out a scream and kicked at the walker above him, but the kick only hit the air.  
"No!"  
Paul heard his own heartbeat like thunder in his ears, but Daryl's scream drowned it out. The next moment the hands let go of him and he was pulled out from under the dead walker. Hands palpated his body, searched for injuries...bites, brushed the hair off his face, and finally paused on his cheeks. Paul looked into startled, worried eyes. Were there tears?   
"Everything's good. It's all okay. I'm alright”, Paul whispered, holding Daryl's wrists to give himself some insurance, that he was really crouched in front of him.  
A second later, Daryl's arms wrapped around him and he felt as if he was suffocating. But Paul didn't say anything about it. Some shakes went through Daryl's body and after Paul raised his head, he saw tears running down the hunter's cheeks. He quickly wrapped his arms around Daryl and held him tight. Daryl hid his head on Paul's shoulder and tried to suppress his sobs.  
"Everything's okay, really. Don't worry, everything's fine."  
"Never scare me like that again, God damn it", Daryl murmured, burying his hand in Paul's hair. "I don't want to lose anyone else."  
"You won't, I promise."  
"I…"  
But Daryl couldn't say more. Paul kissed him intimately, but again they couldn't enjoy the time together for long. An unmistakable moan reached their ears and when Paul looked past Daryl's head, he recognized five other walkers that came through the forest.  
"We have to get out of here."  
"Damn, is there a nest somewhere?", the hunter grunted, getting up.  
He pulled Paul to his feet and ripped his arrows from the bodies of the dead walkers. The two of them quickly looked around and saw that more of them had appeared.  
"I thought we had searched the area well", said Jesus annoyed.  
"Apparently not good enough. We have to get through quickly."  
Daryl dragged him behind, through a gap that had opened between the walkers. They ran as fast as they could, but the walking dead bodies were everywhere. Something was wrong...where did they all come from? They would have noticed such a large group on their raids. But Paul and Daryl hadn't been out for a long time, and everyone else in Hilltop didn't dare to go out that far, because they feared the Saviours. So it wasn't surprising that a big group of walkers could get close to them. Paul's thoughts were interrupted when he noticed how he stumbled. His pants, which were only held at its place by the zipper, had slipped and he stepped on his pants leg. He wanted to reach out to catch himself but was too slow. His head hit a tree root. However, he didn't even have a second to worry about the pain. Daryl was already pulling him up again and dragging Paul behind him, by his hand. They kept running until the younger man suddenly felt more familiar with the surroundings.  
"This way", he called, now pulling Daryl after him. "There's an old outpost nearby."  
He led him near the road and ran parallel to it further away from Hilltop. The walkers were no longer visible when Pail pointed to a tree with a platform attached to it.  
"You know we could just go back down the street and be safe again in Hilltop", Daryl said, aiming down the street with his crossbow.  
"But we still have plans and this outpost will no longer be visited."  
Paul grinned over his shoulder and was the first to climb up onto the platform. Daryl laughed, shook his head and followed him. Once at the top, he let his gaze wander over the area to be sure that no one was on the street. Just as he was about to turn to Paul, he was grabbed by the shoulders and pressed against the tree trunk. Paul kissed him wildly and the next moment Daryl was on his back. He braced himself up on his elbows and looked at his friend. Paul kneeled over his lap and that alone was enough to get him hard. God, Daryl wanted to fuck him right now, but something caught his attention.  
"How exactly did you manage to give yourself a black eye?"  
"I wanted to join the Black Eyed Peas", said Paul, pushing Daryl onto the platform, with slightly more force than needed.   
"Yeah? You would be a perfect Fergie!", Daryl grinned up at him.  
He received a playful punch to the shoulder for his comment. The two looked at each other with a laugh, then Paul leaned forward and kissed Daryl again. He moved his lips over his cheek and neck and pushed up his shirt. Next moment he planted open-mouthed kisses on the broad chest underneath him.   
"To be honest, a big, rough guy ripped my pants off so that they slipped when I was running, which is why I stumbled. Unfortunately, there was a root in the way that wanted to get to know my face. ”  
"I'm sor..." Daryl's apology turned into a moan as Paul moved his hips over his groin.  
"This is not the first bruise from you", he chuckled and jerked his hips again. "And it is very likely that it will not be the last."  
At that very moment, Paul's hand disappeared in Daryl's pants. The older man's head fell back and he bit his lip to avoid moaning loudly. Paul leaned forward again, this time not to kiss him, but to gently bite Daryl's lip and pull it out between his teeth.  
"Wanna hear you", he repeated Daryl's words from before, making a quick turn with his hand around Daryl's cock.  
"Jesus fucking Christ", gasped Daryl loud, rolling his hips to get more friction.  
"Jesus is enough, but thank you."  
"Fuck you", Daryl moaned.  
"That's your job."  
A second later Paul was laying on his back and Daryl knelt over him.  
"Where did I stop?", he growled.  
For the second time that day, he impatiently tore the younger man's pants down his hips and slid down far enough that he was at eye level with Paul's crotch. He sent a sly smile up to him, then leaned down.  
"Right there", groaned Paul, burying a hand in Daryl's long hair, tugging lightly as he took his full length in his mouth in one go.  
At least they were protected from the walkers on the platform and therefore they could be as loud as they wanted. However, Paul had lied on one point. The outpost was still visited, though not regularly. But he didn't mind telling it Daryl...that was the thrill, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually, I wanted to add more smut in this chapter. But I realized, I can't write it very well in English 🙈 It just felt to emotionless after I translated it 😕 maybe I should practices it more 😂😅
> 
> However, how do you like the new chapter?


	5. At the farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Rick and Daryl Oneshot :)
> 
> Prompt was: I Need you to open your eyes for me...

  
It had been almost a day since Daryl had last seen on Hershel’s farm and Rick was beginning to worry. Yes, the younger one was often rough and brutal, always looking for fights and seemed to enjoy it when he could start one. But still, he was part of their group and Rick was aware that if Daryl hadn't helped them, they would have been in much more trouble in any situation with walkers. Besides, Daryl meant a lot to him, even if he wouldn't admit it to the others - after all, he couldn't just tell his wife that he had feelings for the rebellious redneck. Lori wouldn't understand it...he didn't understand it himself and how should he explain it to Carl? Especially since he could not assume that Daryl felt something for him too.  
Rick let his gaze wander over the edge of the forest and finally hoped to find a sign of life from him. But he didn't. He waited and kept an eye on the forest. But when it started to get dark, he couldn't stand it any longer. He got up and ran towards the forest.  
"Where do you want to go?", Lori wanted to know and ran after him.  
"Searching for Daryl."  
"What? Why?"  
She held his arm and forced him to stop. He wanted to tear himself away and keep walking, but that would only make Lori more suspicious.  
"Because we need him. He is the only one who can read tracks and hunt properly.”  
"He made you go back to Atlanta and put you in danger!"  
Rick freed his arm and turned back to the forest.  
"If it hadn't been for him, we probably wouldn't have come this far and you know that!"  
At that moment, Andrea called out that a walker was on the way to the farm. He saw Shane running to the edge of the forest, closely followed by T and Glenn. Rick left Lori and ran after them. Hershel had said, no demanded, that he would take care of every walker who entered his farm and Rick had given him his word, that they would leave them alone. However, Shane didn't let their host command him anything. The closer Rick got to the walker, the more he thought he knew him. Suddenly his heart started racing when he recognized the man.  
"Daryl," he breathed startled and ran faster again.  
It couldn't be. After they finally found a reasonably safe place, he should have been bitten? It was Daryl...he wasn't just bitten, that didn't happen to him. He was just looking for Sophia. Still, Rick raised his pistol and aimed it at the hunter's head. Seconds passed that seemed like an eternity to Rick. How was he going to shoot someone he'd just developed feelings for?  
"Time to finally hit me with this bullet," growled Daryl.  
Rick saw him sway and was about to run to him when someone fired a shot and Daryl tumbled down.  
"No!", Rick shouted and rushed to Daryl. "No!"  
He crouched next to him and put a hand on his cheek.  
"Y'all go to be kiddin' me", Daryl murmured.  
He had a graze on the head, nothing lethal. Fortunately, Andrea couldn't shoot well. A smile appeared on Rick's face when he heard his voice. So he wasn't dead. Relief spread through him, but it vanished when the younger man's eyes closed.  
"We have to get him out of here. He needs help", Rick said, pulling Daryl to his feet.  
Shane helped him carry the hunter and together brought Daryl to Hershel. The latter wasn't exactly thrilled to help another member of Rick's group, but he did anyway.   
Daryl kept drifting between being awake and sleeping. Then he fell into a kind of twilight state from which he didn't wake up for a day.  
Rick went mad with worry. Hershel assured him that it was only the loss of blood and that Daryl was okay - just needed to recover. However, he was not so sure about that. He didn't think Daryl was someone who gave up quickly. But now it looked like it. Rick didn't want him to give up. He spent every free minute at his bed and that made Lori angry. She accused him of caring more for that creepy redneck - as she called Daryl - than for the rest of the group...more than he cared for her and Carl. He hated himself for it, but there was nothing he could do about it. Something drew him to this man and Rick really didn't know what it was. Maybe his way of doing things. For example, Daryl didn't lie, Rick knew that. He was quick-tempered, sometimes annoying, but honest and one knew exactly what he was up to.   
Rick unconsciously ran a hand over Daryl's hair. A twitch went over his face and he gave a painful groan. Nothing he hasn't seen in the past twenty-four hours. But every time he'd hoped Daryl would open his eyes - which never happened.   
At some point, Rick was overwhelmed by the tiredness and he fell asleep in the chair next to Daryl's bed. When he opened his eyes again, he thought he had only slept for a few minutes. But a quick glance out of the window told him that it must have been several hours because it was now dark outside. He turned his head to Daryl and looked into blue eyes.  
"You are awake", he said with a smile.  
"Almost…"  
Daryl's eyes closed again and Rick had a bad feeling that if he fell asleep again, he wouldn't open them anymore.  
"Daryl? Daryl, you have to open your eyes! ”, he said firmly and put a hand on his cheek. "I need you to open your eyes for me..."  
He opened them and looked at Rick again. There was pain in his eyes, as ever so often. The only difference was that this time, he was unable to hide the pain behind insults or growled responses.  
"Why?"  
"Because...I...I like you, okay? You are now part of my family and I don't want to lose any family members. "  
A tortured laugh came over Daryl's lips and he started to straighten up, which didn't work. With a painful groan, he sank back onto the bed. In silence, Rick reached out and helped him sit up.  
"Why?"   
Daryl repeated his question as if Rick's answer didn't satisfy him or he didn't understand it. But something was different. Daryl's voice was rough, but not because he hadn't spoken for a day - his tears and suppressed sobs made his voice rough, and Rick knew why he reacted like this. Rick hadn't really known Daryl's brother, but what he had heard from the others was enough, to form an opinion about the hunter's family. He never really had one and now he heard from Rick that he was part of his family.  
“We no longer have many people we can trust. We only have each other and I trust you”, Rick answered his question again. "I really trust you."  
"But why?"  
"I don't know...I..."  
God, he would talk himself into so much trouble if he wouldn't shut up now. Especially since he was certain that Daryl, due to his condition, would not understand what he wanted to tell him. Instead of trying to explain himself, he grabbed Daryl's hand and gave it a quick kiss. The hunter stared at him as if he was a walker trying to eat his hand.  
"I'm sorry...I'll leave you alone", Rick muttered, realizing that he had made a mistake.  
He got up and wanted to let go of Daryl's hand, but the latter held him tight. A look in his eyes told Rick that the younger one still didn't quite understand what he was trying to say. But something in him was beginning to guess it and that's why he held him. Daryl opened his mouth to say something, but Rick could only hear a slurred mumbling. He had to rest, regain his strength.  
"I'll be here when you wake up, I promise", said Rick, sitting down again.  
He continued to hold Daryl's hand and felt that he too squeezed his gently - even after he fell asleep. Daryl didn't just give up.

The next morning, Lori found her husband sitting at Daryl's bed. The younger one was sleeping and Rick was also lying on the bed with his upper body. He had an arm wrapped around Daryl's waist. Daryl's hand was on Rick's head, as if he had stroked or scratched it. With an angry snort, Lori turned on her heel and left the room. She slammed the door shut and the bang woke Rick up. His first glance went to Daryl.  
"Your wife was here...Don't think she liked what she saw", Daryl murmured, looking into Rick's eyes.  
"I'll talk with her, don't worry", said the older, turning his head slightly and pressing a light kiss on Daryl's forearm.  
"What is this going to be...with us?"  
Rick knew immediately what he meant, but had no answer. He looked into Daryl's blue eyes for a few moments, seemed to get lost in them before the younger one looked away.  
"We'll find out together, okay? But before that, you have to get back on your feet...and Daryl? No matter what happens, you will always be part of my family. Nothing and nobody can change that. You have my word on that."  
Daryl nodded and for the first time in years, he believed someone who said this otherwise meaningless words.


	6. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is back in Hilltop after he managed to escape from the Sanctuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I heard you scream...Nightmares again?

_Daryl was woken up by the cold that had settled in his body. He opened his eyes, but it remained dark around him. His little cell wasn't lit, except for the light shimmering through the slit under the door. But that wasn't even enough to see the wall next to him. With a shaky groan, he wrapped his arms around his body and tried to warm himself somehow. But how should he manage that? His body was hypothermic and there was nothing he could do about it. Everything hurt because his body permanently cramped, due to the cold. The only way out of this pain was when he could sleep. But these moments were rare and he enjoyed them whenever he could. His eyes just closed again, when this shitty song boomed through the cell again, startling him awake, like so many times before._  
_"Gonna kill them - every single one! But I'm starting with Dwight," Daryl thought, dropping his head against the wall and closing his eyes._  
_How long did they want to do this? At some point, Negan had to realize that he couldn't be broken. There had been so many situations in his life that would have broken anyone else. Negan would realize, that he was a hard nut to crack and then Daryl would ram his knife into this bastard's heart. Annoyed by the music, Daryl kept banging his head against the wall behind him. This shitty song had to end at some point! Or hopefully, the CD player would break...It should finally stop! For a moment, Daryl considered that he only had to hit his head hard enough against the wall to lose consciousness. That could be dangerous in his condition, but at least he would have peace of mind._  
_As suddenly as the music started, it stopped again. The next moment the door opened. The light was so dazzling to Daryl, that he couldn't tell who had opened the cell. Something landed in Daryl's face and it took him a moment to recognize that it was clothes. He almost put them on instantly, just to escape the cold. But then he would show his weakness to the ass in front of him and he didn't want that. However, that didn't seem to bother that bastard because he grabbed the clothes and pressed them into his face._  
_"Get dressed," Dwight thundered, and Daryl should know better than to talk back - but that didn't stop him from doing so._  
_"Fuck you."_  
_There was a laugh, then a foot hit his stomach and he bends forward with a cry. A growl came over his lips, but this caused Dwight to kick him again. Usually, he could have caught his foot easily. But the cold had stiffened his limbs, he couldn't react quickly to fight him off. Another kick hit his head and he saw stars exploding in front of his eyes. Yes, Dwight would die first._  
_The bastard grabbed Daryl by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. The clothes landed on his face again, but this time they didn't fall off, they stayed in place. It didn't take long for Daryl to feel like he was suffocating. He tried to grab Dwight's hand and made it, but as weak as he was, he couldn't pull him off his face. His lungs contracted painfully when they could no longer get the needed air and his body started to spasm. He desperately tried to breathe calmly and regain control of his body, but failed. Dark spots appeared in his field of vision, it wouldn't be long before he passed out and he would welcome the fainting. Just seconds before it would happen Dwight let go of the clothes and Daryl gasped for air._

Daryl startled from his sleep and stared into the darkness around him. He quickly slid to the wall behind him and made himself as small as he could. Leaving not to much space to kick and punch at. He took some trembling breaths and ran his hands over his face. Daryl needed some time before he realized he wasn't in that shitty cold cell. He was not in the Sanctuary but in Hilltop, in Jesus' trailer. Negan couldn't do anything to him, Dwight couldn't do anything to him. He was safe and he must have woken Jesus up again because a sleepy moaning sounded in the room. Guilt shot through his body and made his stomach cramp. That guy didn't deserve a roommate like him. Sighing Daryl got up slowly from the at the ground where he was sleeping. The time in this cell had brought him back to the days when he couldn't sleep in beds because they were too soft...to comfortable. He put his hand on the wall to find his way over to the door. Luckily Jesus didn't own that much furniture, so he made it across the room without bumping into something. He needed to get some fresh air, get out of the room...it felt like the walls were getting closer.  
"Everything okay?" Jesus' sleepy voice sounded behind him.  
"Yes, just need some fresh air."  
He left the barrack in a rush but didn't go far. He didn't want to walk, just to be outside. His dislike of being surround by walls was permanently, even before Negan captured him. But now it was almost unbearable to stay in a room for longer than a few minutes. He almost believed that he developed some sort of claustrophobia. The cold and fresh air felt good on his overheated skin and cleared his mind. Daryl slid down the wall of the barrack and stared at the sky. It seemed like years since he had seen the stars. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He took a couple of deep breaths and felt his heartbeat calm again. But he didn't notice how he fell asleep again.

_He could run away, he could finally run away! Sherry had let him out. He quickly ran to the next door and peered through the window. There were motorcycles outside, he could get away! Without hesitation, he opened the door and ran out. The next moment he was surrounded by a group of Saviours. Than Negan stood in front of him and put on his show. Aksing for his name and all that fucking bullshit. Daryl looked at him unimpressed. This asshole just wanted to frighten him. Next second he saw Negan swinging around his baseball bat and struck in his direction. Daryl forced himself to stay where he was. He didn't even flinch. His childhood had taught him that it wasn't advisable to show weakness...especially eye to eye with a guy like Negan. He could only rule the Sanctuary because everyone was afraid of him. Daryl wouldn't admit that openly, he didn't show it to him._  
_"The guy has some big balls," Negan laughed, then turned away from him._  
_The Saviours got closer and Daryl knew what was coming. He knew they would beat him up and he threw the first punch, to show them that he wasn't afraid of them. The next moment a fist hit Daryl's cheek and threw him to the ground. He tried to fight back or at least avoid the kicks and punches. But how should that work? They were too many. He had no choice but to take the beating. He put one arm over his face and the other between his legs to protect at least the most sensitive parts of his body. But that didn't help much. There were eight of them and they kicked him as if they wanted to kill him. There was nothing he could do about it, just endure it. He felt his skin split open in some places. Someone tore his arm off his face and stepped on his fingers, before kicking at his forehead. Daryl bit his lip, intent on not making a sound of pain. His hand felt like every single bone in it was broken and he hoped it wasn't. A second later his other hand was grabbed and forcefully pull to the side. He tried to free his hands, kicking at the idiots standing by his feet, throwing himself against the hands holding his arms. They were holding him down by his shoulders, kneeling on his arms and shoulders with all their weight. He didn't know what they were going to do until the first kick hit him between his legs. Daryl cried out and could have slapped himself in the face at the same moment. It wasn't the first kick in the balls and not even the hardest he'd ever had. But he couldn't take it anymore, his body didn't want to - was too exhausted! He screamed with every kick and punch, tried to free himself somehow, but failed. He was kicked again and again and again. At some point, he believed that his entire body was only one bloody mess. How could it be any different? But they didn't stop, not even after his screams died._

"Daryl! Daryl! Wake up!"  
Daryl opened his eyes and his instincts immediately kicked in. He threw himself on the man crouching in front of him and pressed him to the cold, sandy ground, with all his weight. One hand on his throat, he drew back the other, to punch the guy hard enough to knock him out, when his vision cleared and he realized who was trapped underneath him. He immediately dropped back and crawled away from Jesus.  
"I'm sorry," he said quickly.   
Putting even more distance between them, simply out of fear of what the other man would do. Would he punch him like the bastard's at the Sanctuary always did?   
"Everything's alright. I heard you scream...Nightmares again?" Jesus wanted to know and crouched next to him. "I sent everyone else away who heard you too - thought you probably wouldn't want to listen to stupid sayings tomorrow."  
Daryl felt his throat tighten. The nightmare was still in his bones and he knew he wouldn't get it out of there anytime soon. He hadn't shown Negan how badly he was tortured, had stood firm and fought back. The truth was very different...Negan couldn't break him because he had been broken since his childhood and had only learned to cover it up.  
"Hey, hey darlin', "Jesus' voice penetrated the veil of his thoughts. "Just look at me. Breathe."  
Did he really call him darling? What did he mean by breath? What...It was only then that Daryl noticed that tears were running down his face and he was trembling all over. His body tenses like the string from his crossbow and he could hardly breathe. What was wrong with him?  
"Daryl, look at me. Everything's okay. It was just a dream, you are safe. Nobody can harm you here."  
Jesus tried to calm him down with words, but that didn't seem to work. He hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arms around Daryl and pressed him against his chest. Daryl stiffened a little more at first, but then all tension suddenly fell from his body. He sank against Jesus' chest and simply let himself be held by him. It wasn't long before Daryl couldn't suppress his sobs anymore. He cried in Jesus' arms and the younger man didn't even seem to mind. It must have been so embarrassing to him. Daryl's cheeks blushed deeply red at that thought. He was embarrassing his friend and didn't have it in him to stop his tears.   
" 'm s...sorry...," he tried to apologize, but Jesus cut him off right there.  
"You don't have to be. Everything's okay," he whispered, placing a hand on the back of his head. "You went through so much. Had to watch your friends get killed; were taken hostage and I don't want to know what Negan and his people did to you. Judging by your screams and nightmares, it was unbearable! It’s understandable that this is going to wreck you. I don’t know how you could hold on for so long, but I’m glad you did it.”  
His words were meant as comforting, but they only made Daryl cry even more. Why did Jesus know exactly what to say? Why could he put it all in words so well? He was the first to try to give him this kind of understanding. Why did he feel so safe, secure and understood in his arms? He hadn't even felt like that with Rick. But it also wasn't Rick who broke into the Sanctuary to save him. It wasn't Rick who had helped him all the way to Hilltop and even carried him, as his legs gave out. Without Jesus, he would have been lost.   
Yes, Sherry had opened the doors for him, but he wouldn't have gotten far without the younger man. Negan would have caught him again, killed him...or worse - definitely worse. He was sure that, as time would have passed by, death would have seemed to be the only way out. Jesus had saved his life...and he hadn't even thanked him.  
He had come when his family was too busy crawling up the guy's ass, who held him captive, and Daryl didn't really notice this fact until that very moment.  
"T...thanks," he sobbed, clutching Jesus shirt. "Without you, I would still be a hostage."  
"Bullshit, I didn't do anything. You freed yourself."  
Daryl knew that Jesus wanted to encourage him, help him regain his self-confidence, but he couldn't just leave it like that.  
"I wouldn't have gotten far...was too weak. Without you, they would have caught me again and Negan...he...," Daryl swallowed hard and looked into Jesus' eyes - were those tears in his eyes? "Thank you..."  
Instead of saying something, Jesus hugged him again and stroked his hair. Daryl allowed it, even if he didn't know why. He felt save and that was exactly what he needed right now.   
That night they both slept in front of the barrack and it was the first time in days, that Daryl got a few hours of sleep without being woken up by nightmares.


	7. Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was: I don't expect you to understand this!

Daryl couldn't believe it. Rick really wanted to keep Negan alive. He had locked him up and had him guarded. But that wasn't enough for Daryl! He wanted to see the bastard dead. He wanted Negan to suffer for every one of his friends. He wanted to shove his fucking baseball bat so deep up his ass that one could see it when Negan opened his mouth. But nothing could convince Rick that it would be better to kill Negan.  
"We want to build a new world and we have to start setting the rules. We can't just kill anyone we don't like," Rick said angrily.  
"He never had a fuckin' problem with that! Do you remember Abraham?! Or Glenn?! Damn, they were our family and he beat their heads in! I had Abraham's brain all over my shirt! And Glenn - just think of his last look! Think of Maggie! You want to waste food and medicine on the ass that killed her husband and the father of her child!" Daryl yelled at him.  
He couldn't stand this discussion anymore. For the past two days, they had done nothing but argue about something that wasn't really a topic of argument. Negan had to die, otherwise, they would never get their peace. The surviving Saviors would try to free him, they would never give up. But no matter which argument Daryl said, it was blocked by Rick. It was as if he had forgotten everything Negan had done to them. How long they had to fight him, what and especially whom they had lost.  
"He could only oppress all these people with fear. No civilization should be built on such foundation walls. They only did what he ordered them to do. I don't want to start our new found peace the same way!"  
That was Rick's universal-argument and Daryl couldn't hear it anymore. Whenever he said something that would likely change his friend's mind, he got that answer. But he didn't want to give in, he simply couldn't.   
"You weren't there! You didn't see what the Saviors were doing! You didn't feel this pain!" he yelled at Rick. "Negan had broken you the moment he killed Abraham and Glenn! If you had been in my place...if...if you had been trapped in this cell...We probably would have had to fight you too!"  
Rick stood there like he was struck by lightning, staring at Daryl. There was shock in his eyes when he realized what his best friend was talking about. Pure terror sounded in Daryl's voice. He had never talked about what the Saviors had done to him. He wasn't the type of person who talked about his feelings, pain, or fears...not even with him. He had been wondering what had happened in the Sanctuary all along. But he knew he couldn't ask that question out loud. Daryl wouldn't have answered him, he knew him that much. Now that he started talking about it himself had to mean something.  
"Daryl, I know..."  
"No, you don't! You don't fuckin' _know_ a damn fuckin' thing! None of them were forced to do anything, none! They did everything _willingly_! Negan didn't threaten anyone of them, only me! Nobody was beaten except me! I was in this fucking freezing cold cell with pictures of Glenn and Abraham at the wall! I had to eat dog food, for fuck's sake! I couldn't breathe properly, I couldn't sleep...This fucking song got stuck in the head and I hear it every time I close my eyes!"  
A feeling spread through Daryl, which he knew very well. He got angry, furious. Rick actually knew how to deal with him when he was in this condition. But Daryl was just so loaded with anger that he wouldn't guarantee anything. Best was to leave him alone, otherwise, it would end badly.  
"I have enough of this bullshit," Daryl growled and just left Rick standing there.  
"Daryl, wait!"  
"I don't expect you to understand this, Rick...just leave me alone!"  
Without paying attention to his path, Daryl stomped through Alexandria. He had to go, needed distance, otherwise, he would explode. Why didn't Rick understand his motives? He himself had supported him more than once in situations that he hadn't approved of. When they arrived in Alexandria it was a beautiful little world that had had so little contact with the dark outside of the fence, that they could forget about the walkers and everything else. Rick had destroyed this little world, this paradise in the Apocalypse, at that time and only because he had disagreed with the rules. Daryl had supported him without hesitation. He had understood why Rick wanted to change something in this place. But that was also due to the fact that he never really fit in there himself. The chic houses and the 'normal' life - he was just not made for that. Nevertheless, Alexandria could have continued as it was. There had been no real reason to take the lead. Did Daryl question his behavior, his decisions at the time? No! He still didn't do that, even though these had drawn the attention of the Saviors and Negan to them. But this wasn't about Rick's needs, it was about his and was letting him down.   
Meanwhile, Daryl had reached the gate and was opening it when his name was called. For a moment he had thought it was Rick, but when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Paul coming towards him. How could it be otherwise? Rick wouldn't let himself get that low and run after him. But Daryl wasn't going to wait for Paul. He wanted to be left alone! Stubbornly looking straight ahead, he left Alexandria and hoped to meet a couple of walkers or better a couple of Saviors so he could let out his anger.

Paul had overheard the clash between Rick and Daryl. He could understand both but was clearly on Daryl's side in this matter. Letting Negan live was the stupidest thing they could do. As long as he was breathing, he would try to break out or the scattered Saviors would try to free him. Once they managed it, there was no going back, no escape, nothing they could do to stop him again. Negan would kill them and then rebuild his reign of terror. Why couldn't Rick see that?  
When Daryl turned to go, Paul firmly believed that Rick would stop him anyway. They were family for one another, brothers who had experienced and survived a number of terrible things together. But Rick turned to his house and disappeared in it. Paul didn't have to think it over whom he would follow. Rick went to Michonne and would talk with her about Daryl. Daryl, on the other hand...who knew what he would do in his rage.  
Paul ran after him because he was sure he would start a fight with someone at the next opportunity. But that didn't happen. Daryl wanted to leave Alexandria. Alone and in its condition - not the best idea. Paul called for him, wanted to stop him or at least offer to come with him. But Daryl completely ignored him and closed the gate. However, that didn't deter Paul. He wouldn't let the hunter roam the area alone when he was angry. People like Daryl turned their brains off when they got angry. He would engage in any situation where he could vent his anger - even if it was too risky. Knowing that Daryl wouldn't accept him around, Paul kept his distance.  
After a few steps, Daryl turned off the road and went into the forest. So far he didn't seem to have noticed him and Paul hoped it would stay that way.  
As expected, Daryl was looking for something to let out his anger. Three walkers were just right for him. As expected, he didn't kill them from afar with his crossbow, but let them get dangerously close and stabbed them with his knife. Then he just trudged on.  
Paul wondered what was going through his mind and if he got balls to ask about it if Daryl would tell him. But he was too angry for that. Four other Walkers were killed by him and this time Paul almost intervened. One of them had managed to clasp Daryl's arm and was about to bite him when he thundered his knife into the undead's head.  
Paul dropped his own knife and let out the breath he was holding. He did the same reaction three times because Daryl made no move to be careful or quiet.  
It was getting dark as Daryl stepped out onto the street and headed for Alexandria. Paul stayed in the shadow of the trees and watched the area.  
"How long are you going to run after me without saying anything? You are too loud to sneak up behind me," Daryl asked suddenly without turning around.  
However, he stopped and this was the sign for Paul that he could go near him without fear of his health. As soon as he had caught up with him, Daryl kept walking.  
"I just thought..." Paul started but was interrupted by him.  
"Thank you."  
Paul stopped and looked at Daryl in amazement and confusion. Had he really thanked him?  
"You look like a cow, staring like that," growled Daryl amused as he glanced at him.  
"I'm just surprised. I thought you were mad at me."  
"I was...in the beginning...but as my anger subsided, I realized that you just wanted to take care of me and I count that on you. Not everyone would have run after me...I'm a real asshole when I'm angry."  
"No shit!" Now Paul had to laugh.  
"Thanks again. Even if we didn't talk, knowing not to be out here all alone was good."  
"Always my pleasure."  
They smiled at each other for a moment, then Alexandria's gate came in and Daryl's mood sank again. Paul immediately knew why.  
"He'll understand someday."  
"Let's hope it's not too late then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate it when Daryl and Rick are arguing, but it gave the opportunity for Paul to be there for Daryl...even if he was just watching him. 
> 
> Anyways, how did you like the chapter?


	8. The little Paradise in prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people from Woodbury are attacking!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Is that blood? You are bleeding! 
> 
> Finally, a chapter in which Rick is comforting Daryl (or trying to /.\\)

Everything was going well, they had a new home, enough food for the next week and enough people to fight off the walkers. It would have been perfect! But then the governor showed up and tried to destroy their little paradise in prison. Rick didn't let it go, he wouldn't move on again. His group had almost lost hope when they were attacked. There was only one who held the position with him until everyone else retreated to the areas of the prison that were easy to defend.  
With Daryl at his side, he managed to push the governor's people back.   
It was breathtaking to see how Daryl fought and Rick didn't know if he should have a bad conscience about such thoughts. Fights weren't nice and you shouldn't look for beauty in soldiers who were killing people. But Rick couldn't ignore it. How Daryl moved, how smoothly he loaded the crossbow, how he clenched his teeth when he was forced to wait - everything fit as if Daryl was made for this life.  
But that thought also made Rick sad. By this time he knew that Daryl always had to fight in his life. There was no love in his life story and if so, it was fucked up like the love he'd received from brother. Daryl was a fighter because he had to be from a young age and that's why he looked beautiful when he fought. Sad but beautiful at the same moment. It was as if nothing could hurt him...no walkers, no knives, not even bullets, as seen on Hershel’s farm.  
Flicking fingers in front of Rick's eyes brought him back into the here and now.  
"Hey! Still here, Rick? They have run out of ammunition," Daryl said, still waving at his companion. "Now or never."  
Rick broke away from his thoughts. He gripped his pistol more tightly and nodded to Daryl.  
"On three?"  
"Three!"  
Daryl jumped up and left the cover. Damn, that wasn't how he had meant it. They didn't know if the others were really out of ammo or bluffing. But Daryl didn't care, as always. He stormed off without a plan and it was Rick's turn to cover his back.  
Two of the attackers fell, with arrows in their head or chest, before Daryl was really on the move. Two more followed and Rick shot another four. They worked their way through, bit by bit. Then Rick suddenly felt a hand on the back of his neck and how he was pulled back. The barrel of a gun was firmly pressed to his temple.  
"Drop the gun," growled a deep voice.  
"You're just bluffing," he replied calmly.  
"Want to figure it out?"  
Rick tried to get out of his grip, but couldn't. Instead, his attacker tightened his grip more, almost forcing him to his knees.  
"Drop it!" he shouted now and that drew Daryl's attention to them.  
Bad mistake! Rick could see him raising his crossbow and aiming with it. He knew how well Daryl could shoot, and yet he almost pissed himself when he saw him pull the trigger, knowing that the attacker's head was just inches away from his own. The hand on the back of his neck disappeared and the guy tipped to the side. Rick saw him hit the floor and heard a shot at the same time. This must have come off when the guy hit the ground. Rick quickly looked at Daryl, who had thrown himself on the floor and looked at him with narrowed eyes.  
"What the fuck was that?" He growled.  
"His gun didn't seem to be secured," Rick replied.  
But they didn't have more time for exchanging words. The next moment, shots flew around their ears and they had to find cover. Daryl threw himself behind a concrete pillar and Rick ran to him. The younger man crouched on the floor and gritted his teeth, while Rick pressed himself to the pillar, to not get shot - his calves pressing against Daryl's back, they waited until the shots ended.  
"Everything okay?" Rick asked, giving Daryl a quick look, but only got an approving grunt from him - that had to be enough as an answer.  
"They still have ammunition."  
"No shit? What did it reveal?" Daryl growled and made himself smaller. "And now?"  
"Do you still have the grenades?"  
"Two of them, yes."  
Rick carefully glanced out from behind the pillar and counted seven of the attackers.  
"I still have eight shots...if I can round them up, you'll throw the grenade," Rick explained.  
Daryl nodded and got ready. The next moment, shots were fired over him, so precisely that the seven really moved closer together. Daryl waited a moment longer, then pulled the pin of the grenade and threw it as safely as he shot, right between their attackers' feet.  
"Four, three, two, one," Daryl counted out loud and then there was an explosion that knocked them both to the ground.  
They lay there for a moment and waited for the ringing to subside in their ears. Daryl was the first to stand and cocked his crossbow again. With a growl, he realized that it was his last arrow. But it didn't stop him. He had to see if anyone was alive. With trembling steps, he walked toward the cars the Woodbury people had used as cover. None of them had survived the explosion and that made Daryl smile. Another few assholes dead. At some point, the governor had to get the message and leave them alone, right?  
When the danger averted, a sharp pain suddenly shot through Daryl's right side. The pain was so intense, that he could no longer hold his crossbow and it fell to the floor with a loud thud. He pressed a hand to his side and then stared at it as he pulled it back.  
"Fuck..."  
"I...is that blood?...You are bleeding!" he heard Rick behind him and immediately went into defense mode.  
"Half as bad. It's just a grazing shot."  
"Did the bullet hit you earlier?"  
Daryl shook his head and pressed his hand on the wound again.  
"Was one of the first shots the idiots fired."  
"What?!"  
Rick felt as if all the blood was draining from his body. Why hadn't he noticed? And why hadn't Daryl said anything? The question was probably written on his face because Daryl answered it the next moment.  
"What should I have done when it happened? Withdraw with the others and leave you alone? You never would have had a chance. Besides, it's really half as bad as it looks."  
But Rick didn't let him get away so quickly. He grabbed Daryl's arm and put it around his shoulder. But just as he was about to start walking, he stopped him.  
"My crossbow."  
Rick grunted picked up the crossbow and was once again surprised, at how heavy the thing was. Then he grabbed Daryl and took him to the cellblock where they had set up their camp. The hunter kept protesting that he could walk alone and didn't need any help, but Rick just ignored it. He knew that Daryl's leg could probably be torn off and he would still take no help.  
"What happened?!"  
Beth was the first to arrive when they entered the cell block. She eyed Daryl worriedly and put her hand over her mouth when she saw the blood at his side.  
"Just a graze, everything's okay," growled Daryl.  
"I'm going to get Dad!"  
And she was gone again. Daryl gave an unwilling growl but said nothing more. He hated it when others helped him...always felt like he owed them something. But what should he do? One thing was certain, he would not even make it to the cell he had set up for himself if he was alone. Still, every fiber of his body rebelled against the arm that Rick had wrapped around him. In his cell, he dropped him carefully on his bed and looked him over. Was that worry in Rick's eyes?  
'Nonsense,' Daryl thought. 'Why should he worry?'  
The next moment Rick crouched in front of him and grabbed his leather jacket to brush it off his shoulders. Daryl sat there in a state of shock. What was he up to? Then his body reacted for him and he slid as far away from Rick until he felt the wall in his back.  
"It's just a scratch," he growled, wanting to cross his arms over his chest, but the pain stopped him.  
"Stop with that crap and come here Daryl," Rick said, shaking his head.  
"Just need some sleep, then I'll be fine."  
"I said you should come here!"  
This time, Rick's voice sounded firm, commanding, and Daryl obeyed, albeit reluctantly. He let him take off his jacket and even his shirt. But when Rick leaned forward to inspect the wound and carelessly put a hand on his stomach, Daryl blew a fuse.  
"Back off!" He barked, shoving Rick away.  
He stumbled backward and hit his head on the wall. Uttering a curse, he felt the back of his head and was ready to bark an insult, when he noticed how Daryl was sitting there. His thin blanket was tightly wrapped around his shoulders and he pressed his pillow against his torso to hide as much skin as possible. His eyes were lowered and Rick could see the immense discomfort in it. The curse died on his tongue and made room for something else.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to get too close to you," he said, getting up. "I only want to help you."  
"I know...it's just...I can't...I don't know," muttered Daryl, making himself smaller.  
"Bad experiences?"  
Rick just got a nod. He took a deep breath and let his eyes wander through the cell as if he would find something on the bare walls to help him. At that moment Hershel came around the corner and wanted to say something. Rick shook his head and motioned for him to leave. What he saw from the wound was really not that bad - Daryl had had worse injuries. A bandage would be enough.  
"Wait here," he said to the younger one and left the cell to get what was needed.  
Daryl didn't answer, just sat there trying to get his pounding heart under control. What was that? Why did he react like that to Rick? Hadn't he sworn never to develop feelings for others? He couldn't love like normal people did...his love would always be a twisted, fucked up version of the real feeling since he had never experienced real love. Anyways he didn't think Rick would love him. He was a soldier for him, someone he could use. Rick helped him because he helped to ensure that his group would survive, nothing else. At least Daryl talked himself into it so as not to develop feelings. He had noticed Rick looking at him but ignored it.  
Just when he thought Rick wouldn't come back and put the pillow away he had been pressing against his bare torso, Rick entered the cell again.  
"I have disinfectant and a bandage and", he said in a commanding tone when Daryl wanted to protest. "I don't tolerate a no, Daryl. I don't want you to get an infection. I'll take a closer look at the wound and clean it. Then I will decide whether it needs to be sewn or not."  
"You're not a doctor, you can't decide," Daryl replied harshly.  
"That's why I had Hershel explain to me what I have to watch out for. And now drop the blanket."  
"Is that supposed to be an order?" Growled Daryl, who immediately returned to his attacking stance.  
"If it helps that it is, yes!"  
Daryl knew that arguing was no good, and after the fight, he had no strength for it, so he reluctantly slid the blanket off his shoulders and stared at Rick's shoes, which stopped in front of the bed at that moment. Rick crouched down in front of him again and looked at the wound. Daryl winced as he started cleaning it. In his opinion, they could use the disinfectant for other things...for people in the group who were badly injured or would be badly injured in the future - there was no doubt about that happening. But Rick wouldn't let him get away. So Daryl had no choice but to submit.  
"Can you raise your arm so I can treat the wound better?" Rick finally asked and Daryl did as he was told.  
The next moment he felt the urgent need to push Rick away again. The older man had put a hand on his back and carefully stroked it, probably to calm him down. Daryl stiffened without anything he could do about it.  
"Why are you doing this?" He asked, looking down at Rick.  
"What?"  
"Don't play stupid...this."  
Rick sighed and took away the cloth with which he had cleaned the wound. He didn't know what to answer...maybe that he was afraid the others would murder him if something happened to Daryl? Or maybe the truth was best?  
"I'm worried about you. I don't want anything to happen to you," he said, looking firmly at Daryl.  
"B...but why?"  
"I like you, very much, and friends take care of each other, don't they?"  
Daryl chewed on his lip for a moment before answering.  
"Never really had any. They were all assholes that Merle had dragged on. I got beaten up by them more than anything else..."  
Rick nodded understandingly. He had already thought of something like that and because of that, he wanted to show Daryl what it meant to have friends - a family. He hoped that, at some point, he could simply accept his help.  
"Then it's time for you to have friends...actually you already have some. We are all your friends, your family, we take care of you. I will take care of you. You just have to let it happen."  
Daryl bit his lip again and nodded. Rick had never seen him so unsettled. He carefully placed a hand on his upper arm and the twitch that went through Daryl's body triggered deep sympathy for him. They would surely be able to do something about it if Daryl let himself get involved and he would if Rick found the right words.  
"I don't know what you had to go through before all of this. I only know that you are someone else now. You can decide what you do; you can decide what you allow and accept. But the biggest difference is that you no longer have to do everything alone. You don’t have to make decisions alone if you’re not sure. You don’t have to fight your way through the world alone. We are here for you...I am here for you and I won't leave you alone, I promise. I'll take care of you."  
Rick saw tears shining in Daryl's eyes and knew immediately that he had found the right words. Before the tears ran down Daryl's cheeks, however, he quickly wiped them away and cleared his throat. He said nothing, just raised his arm again so that Rick could continue to treat his wound. The latter smiled at him and wiped away the rest of his blood. Then he takes a closer look at the wound. It was definitely more than a scratch, but nothing that needed to be stitched. So he put the gauze compress on top and a bandage around Daryl's chest, so the wound was protected.  
"Done, that's it," he said with a smile and straightened up again.  
Daryl put on his shirt and fiddled with the hem for a moment before standing up and hugging Rick.  
"Thank you," he murmured, and Rick noticed how much effort it took him to make this gesture.  
"That's what you have a family for," he said, returning the hug.  
Maybe it was easier than expected to crack Daryl's hard shell.


End file.
